


Easy Access

by Star58



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anders - Freeform, F/M, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-16
Updated: 2010-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star58/pseuds/Star58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you can't sleep at night? Take a midnight stroll about the keep of course.  This is a one-shot Awakenings story about Leonie, an Orlesian Warden on assignment, Anders and what happens when the two end up on a collision course in the middle of the night.  Some smut...naturally. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy Access

**Easy Access**

 Night felt so _long_ in Amaranthine, much longer in fact, than it had ever felt in Orlais.  Leonie sighed and rolled onto her side, facing the closed door.  She’d been in her room for several hours now and it was quite late, yet here she was, still wide awake.  Even the glass of wine she’d had just before getting into bed didn’t seem to be helping and although she was trying her utmost to relax it seemed impossible.  Her sleep-challenged state had occurred for several nights now, leading her to wonder as to its cause.  Perhaps it was the sense of ever present danger from darkspawn attack or the lack of warmth.  After all, she was used to a constantly burning fire or a readily available warm bath, both of which she’d taken for granted before coming here.  Or perhaps it was something more. _I’m actually rather lonely,_ she thought _.  S_ he was loath to admit to it herself, but perhaps…just maybe that was it. Sure she was well able to take of herself but like many things, _being_ with someone was so much more, well… _satisfying._

It wasn’t like she didn’t have people to talk with but she needed more than that; a friend or even something more.  She had many friends in Orlais but none of them had been assigned to Amaranthine.  More than that, she knew that here she was looked upon as an outsider.  Friendships would come but it would take time.  And as to anything else…well, it wasn’t like there weren’t prospects here for there _were_ a number attractive men living at the Keep, including two of her newly initiated Wardens.  She found herself growing slightly warm at the thought.  Nathaniel’s behavior towards everyone was distinctly unfriendly but given what he’d been through before her arrival she wasn’t surprised.  Anders, on the other hand had been affable from the start and was _definitely_ a possibility. He was both attractive and amusing…she _did_ like that in a man.  She’d found herself thinking about him a little at first and now with greater and greater frequency.  And he did seem interested in her…or at least she thought so for he frequently engaged her in conversations which recently had taken a flirtatious turn.   

His most recent remark echoed in her mind.   _All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal and the right to shoot lightening at fools_.

As he said it he’d looked at her in a way which made her heart begin to pound.  She’d found herself smiling almost foolishly as she replied, _Pretty girl right here!_  Much to her embarrassment, she’d accompanied the words with an involuntary eyelash flutter worthy of a simpering debutante but he’d responded well, giving her a dazzling smile that had sent heat racing through her body. She’d been rather disappointed when he hadn’t followed up after their return to the Keep but had rationalized it by reminding herself that he might have been reluctant to do so given that she _was_ his commander _._ While Anders didn’t seem to have much regard for authority, he did treat _her_ with a great deal of respect.   _A bit too much respect, in fact._

She sighed, rolling over once again and then sat up, putting her head in her hands.  _I’m never going to get to sleep._ _Perhaps a cup of tea will help._ She reached for the bell pull to call a servant to her quarters, and then stopped, allowing her hand to drop as she realized the lateness of the hour.  Although she knew that as both Warden Commander and Arl of Amaranthine she had the right to disturb the servants’ sleep she felt uncomfortable doing so. Before becoming a warden she’d been a merchant’s daughter and then a soldier and certainly not pampered.  She could make the tea herself and would probably be all the better for getting a little exercise in the process.  Sliding out of bed, she lit the wall lamp and then slipped into the robe lying across a nearby chair. As she did so she caught sight of herself in the mirror.  Her robe, loosely knotted about her waist, fell open, exposing the soft curves usually hidden by her armor.  Eyeing herself dispassionately, she dismissed the thought of more substantial clothing instead drawing the robe around her more closely before heading into the hall _._  

It didn’t take long to get to the kitchen and make tea.  She’d intended to take it back to her room, but as she passed the library something made her push open the door.  The remains of a fire were still smoldering in the hearth and room was warm – much warmer in fact than her own chamber. The tea tray was promptly placed on a nearby table, freeing her hands to light two of the room’s multitude of lamps and tend to the fire. Retrieving her tea, she dropped into a nearby chair where she sat, enjoying the warm of both the flickering flames and the liquid rolling down her throat. The combination proved to be relaxing and she found her eyelids beginning to droop as drowsiness crept over her.  She drifted off in the chair, her legs curled up beneath her. For a time the fire continued to crackle merrily in the grate before slowing fading away leaving only a few red hot embers.

She didn’t know what roused her from sleep; just that she was suddenly and sharply awake with the realization that _someone_ was moving in the corridor outside.  She froze for a moment, listening. The sound came again and this time she recognized it as the sound of soft footsteps. 

 _Someone’s trying to kill me!_ The thought flashed through her mind unbidden.  She was no stranger to political assassination for such actions played a strong role in Orlesian politics.  The current Empress in fact, had gained her throne through such measures.  While aware that at least a portion of the nobility resented her presence as an “enemy” Orlesian as well as for the Wardens’ part in the death of the former Arl, it hadn’t occurred to her until this moment, that any of them might feel strongly enough about it to kill her.  _But I’m not in Orlais and I’m probably over reacting,_ she chided herself. _Could just be Oghren sneaking back from an assignation with one of the kegs in the cellar.  Or one of the guards heading back to his or her quarters after a tryst, lucky bastard!_ The new explanations seemed far more logical than attempted political assassination and she relaxed, smiling ruefully to herself, only to stiffen once again as the footsteps stopped just outside the library door.  She sprang to her feet, looking around for a weapon and silently cursing the fact that she hadn’t brought one along on her midnight foray to the kitchen. _Then again, why would I?  This is after all, now my home. I should be able to feel safe in my own house, shouldn’t I?_

Snatching up a nearby wooden footstool, she padded to the door, her bare feet moving soundlessly across the floor and as the door opened, she swung the stool with as much force as she could muster hitting the figure entering the room.  The man – for the figure _was_ male – grunted and dropped to the floor in a heap. As he did so a small cat gave an irritated screech and half flew, half fell off his shoulders, landing on all four feet with a small thud before dashing off to hide behind her recently vacated chair. As she recognized the cat, Leonie’s stomach clenched in horror for she realized it wasn’t some unknown enemy but in fact, one of her newest Wardens who lay spread-eagled and incapacitated at her feet.    

She dropped to her knees beside the man’s still form in a flutter of worry.  “Maker’s Breath, Anders! What were you _doing_ out there?” While she’d entertained a fantasy of having him at her feet more and more regularly over the past several days, it hadn’t been like this. At the moment, he lay very still although she was relieved to see his chest softly rising and falling.  The blow had connected with the back of his head where a large lump appeared to be forming.  She shook him gently, calling his name but he did not answer. Although she was no healer she did know the basics of field treatment. He didn’t seem to be bleeding but he was growing cold so she looked about for something to throw over him.  _Need to keep him from going into shock._ She spotted a shawl draped over the arm of a chair on the other side of the room and retrieved it before checking his breathing once again. Then just as she was about to go in search of help, she noticed his eyelids begin to flutter and dropped back down on her knees beside him.  He twitched slightly and then gave a loud groan as his eyes opened. He looked up at her with a somewhat puzzled expression before struggling to sit up.  Shaking her head at him, she leaned forward and gently held him down.  As she did so, his cat suddenly reappeared, jumping up to sit on Ander’s chest as if to help.

“Anders! I’m so sorry!  No, no – don’t try to stand.  It’s all my fault. I heard something...you...I didn’t mean…”  She realized she was babbling and drew in a deep breath. “I heard someone coming down the hall and thought it was…well, an enemy, so I hit him – _you –_ over the head with the footstool.”

His look of confusion deepened. “What?! You _hit_ me?  And where was your vaunted Warden perception anyway?  Couldn’t you sense it was me?” 

It was her turn to look confused, “Sense you?  We sense darkspawn, not other wardens. Now lie still and let me go get some help.”  She looked at the cat, “Ser Pounce-a-Lot will be here to make sure you stay put!”

“Look, I don’t need to stay put, I can heal myself if you’ll just help sit up!” 

“Ah. Good point,” she replied. Ser Pounce-a-Lot looked at her solemnly for a moment and stretched, arching his back into a perfect half moon before stepping carefully off of Ander’s chest. 

Leonie rose, reaching down to help Anders to his feet and assist him to a chair where he sat for a moment, grimacing and rubbing the back of his head.  “Andraste’s flaming knickerbockers that hurts! You couldn’t have waited a minute before swinging? You know – see who you were about to hit?”

“And waste the opportunity to take an enemy by surprise?  I’m not exactly dressed for battle you know. I thought it rather important to use one of the few advantages I had!”  She stood up, folding her arms crossly over her chest as she glared down at him.  

He looked up at her, a broad grin forming on his lips as he took in the view.  “Speaking of using advantage…”  Leonie looked down to see what he was staring at only to find that her robe had come open above and below her sash, exposing her nakedness beneath.  Flushing she grabbed at the traitorous garment, pulling it closed. The situation was becoming ridiculous.

“So you’re suggesting I should have just whipped off my robe in the hopes of overwhelming the intruder with my incredible beauty?” she asked acerbically.  “Think that would work for the darkspawn?”

He ignored the sarcasm.  “Well, it works for _me_.  I would have _much_ preferred being felled by your beauty than dropped by a footstool.”  His eyes twinkled as he raised an eyebrow at her but his broad smile suddenly shifted into a slight grimace as he reached up a hand to touch his hair. “Good thing I have all this padding back here,” he said, fingering the thick tail at the back of his head. “That stool might have done a lot more damage without it. Lucky for us both, I guess.”  She watched as he closed his eyes, sinking into a shallow trance, his lips moving soundlessly as a small blue ball of light formed between his outstretched hands. The ball rose in the air and surrounded him, its soft light covering his head like a bandage before slowing fading away.  When it was gone he opened his eyes and looked up at her. “ _Much_ better,” he said.

“Thank the Maker!  I don’t.…” her voice broke slightly as relief swept over her.  “I mean, I feel _terrible_ about this and I’m glad you’re ok.”

His eyes met hers and held them. “Yes I’m ok, but under the circumstances…” he looked towards the front of her robe, “I can think of a few things that would help me feel _even_ _better_.”  

She glanced down to ensure her garment was still closed and noted with mild surprise that the front of _his_ robe showed the beginnings of a rather telltale bulge. She laughed and shook her head somewhat ruefully. “You seem to be healing rather nicely to me but I’m willing to listen. What is it you think would help you feel better or do you want to just talk about the first thing that comes up?”  

His eyes briefly followed her downward gaze.  “Ahhh. Well, as the one who injured me, perhaps it’s in your best interests to make sure my recovery is complete.”  He followed up the words with a smirk but his eyes were entirely serious as he rose from the chair and reached out, drawing her towards him.

A sharp howl erupted behind them and they turned to see Ser Pounce-a-Lot sitting in Anders’ vacated seat glaring indignantly in their direction. Something about the way the cat looked at her made Leonie start to think that being with Anders might not be such a good idea.  She pushed herself away from him, her hands going instinctively to her chest, holding her robe closed.  “Anders…” she began. 

A hurt expression flitted across his face, vanishing as it was replaced by one of cool resignation. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I don’t know what came over me.” His tone changed to one of amusement as he shook his head.  “Well, actually I _do_ …your footstool for one thing and for another, well I was… _am_ feeling rather inspired by your…er, charms at the moment.”  He grinned at her cheerfully. “Yes, that’s it.  And what’s been seen can’t be unseen.”

“Yes,” she said dryly. “I know.”  She stayed where she was, holding him at arm’s length as she pondered her sudden change of heart.  Just a short time ago, she’d been thinking about him; hoping he’d approach and now here she was pushing him away.  “It’s all just…rather sudden.  We’re comrades…colleagues…” She found she was flushing.  “Andraste’s flaming breath! I can’t _imagine_ what you must be thinking of me right now.”

He gazed at her silently for a moment and far more solemnly than his usual wont. The silence between them seemed deafening and her heart sank.  When he finally spoke, he seemed to be choosing his words with unusual care.  “What I’m thinking, dear lady, is that  you are quite beautiful and that I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I first saw you, even though you were _thoroughly_ covered in darkspawn blood and guts at the time.  _And_ I’m thinking I’d like to do a great deal more than kiss you now.”

Something about the way he was looking at her make Leonie catch her breath for although, his reaction to her seemed to show he was impressed by her physical charms, he wasn’t looking at her in the manner of a man seeking a quick tryst in the corner – she knew _that_ look all too well.  No, this look was different – it held longing desire, yearning; it was more of a lover’s look.  And as she stared back at him she found her resistance crumbling and put her mouth up to accept his kiss only to be interrupted once again by Pounce whose small furry form slid between them, yowling indignantly as he slapped Leonie on the ankle with his outstretched claws.

“Ouch!” She stumbled back and rubbed her leg.  “Your cat seems to feel you’ve recovered sufficiently without any further help on my part.”  

Anders scooped up the cat who immediately began to purr. “Oh Ser Pounce-a-Lot,” he cooed.  “ _Such_ a protective little kitty.  Do you need to go outside for awhile?” The cat rubbed its head against his chest then turned to hiss at Leonie.  “Yes,” Anders said determinedly, “I believe you _do_ need to go out!”  He walked to the door and placed Ser Pounce in the hall, carefully shutting and barring the door behind him before turning back to Leonie.  “Now, where was I?” 

She pointed to her lips, “I think you were here.”

“So I was,” he replied, returning to draw her back into his arms and kissing her again.  His lips were warm and firm against hers and she could taste the honeycake they’d had that night for dessert on his tongue. _I wonder if that’s why he was up to? Sneaking to the kitchen for more cake. I must have just missed him._ His hands stroked her back and as she pressed against him, giving herself up to the kiss, she could feel the ripple of muscle beneath his robe making her very conscious of how little she was actually wearing. 

His hands slid over her shoulders forcing her robe down and around her waist. He took a moment to look at her, his hands going to gently cup her breasts before sliding down to tease the open the knot holding her robe about her waist, allowing the garment to fall gently to the ground.  She saw him look at her again, his eyes holding nothing but admiration as he took in the sight of her lean, slightly muscular body before coming back to take her into his arms. 

“Wait,” she murmured. “Don’t you think your own robe’s a bit in the way?” 

“You have a point,” he admitted. He helped her as she began to unbuckle the wide belt about his waist, dropping it to the floor beside them and lifting the heavy robe with its furred shoulders up and over his head. 

She smiled as the last of his clothing fell to the floor, sliding back into his arms as they sank to the rug in front of the now dormant fire.  Leonie could see that although most of the wood she’d piled on earlier had turned to ash, one large log still remained, largely unburned.  Anders saw it as well and waved his hand towards it. Fire flashed out from his fingers setting the log ablaze in the hearth as they returned to their amorous activity. Another wave of his hand doused the lamps, leaving them with only the fire’s flickering flames for light.

He began to kiss her thoroughly as his fingers roamed across her body, emitting minute sparks.  She shivered slightly at his touch moving closer to him and allowing her own hands to wander over the firm muscles of his arms, shoulders and chest, noticing as she did so that the tiny glimmers of light coming from his fingers seemed to move back and forth, augmenting and enhancing the electricity flowing between them.  

“What _is_ that?” she asked softly, as she came up for air. “Is that a _spell?”_

He smiled. “Not all a spell’s uses are defensive,” he said. He continued to trace patterns on her skin, this time leaving trails of warmth and then icy coldness behind. 

“That’s my favorite,” she said rubbing against him as the electric sparks began flowing from his fingers once again.

“Mine too,” he murmured, ‘although you might be surprised at what I can do with a rejuvenation spell.”

Leonie raised an eyebrow and giggled.  “I’ll look forward to that.  But for all the elements at your command, there does seem to be one thing missing.” 

He looked at her in surprise. “And what would that be?”

“Water!” she replied and began moving her mouth over him, gently licking and teasing his skin, enjoying the sound of his sharply indrawn breath as she discovered particularly sensitive spots.

He watched for a moment and then joined her, his mouth and hands moving over her, the energy from his fingers strengthening with each stroke.  Their explorations gained in urgency until he finally drew her up and settled her across his lap, their faces together, murmuring, “I begin to understand why Pounce seems to resent you. You’re clearly part cat!” 

She licked his lips in response and wrapped her legs around him as their bodies began moving in increasing rhythm, blue sparks dancing against the red of the flickering flames as they rocked together towards throbbing culmination.

A long while later, she lay drowsing in his arms, sleepily watching the fire die down once again. Eventually she stirred, repositioning herself across his chest and running her hands through the long blonde hair that had come free of its confinement.  Anders opened his eyes at her touch and grinned up at her. She smiled back. “Fully recovered now?”

He grinned back, “Absolutely. You’re quite a healer.”

She ran her hand over his stomach and hip, stopping as she realized he didn’t seem to be responding to her touch as well as she might have hoped.  “Hmmm…I’m beginning to think more healing is in order but I’m going to need a little help.  About that rejuvenation spell….”

\------------------------------------------

Early the next day, as Leonie prepared to take a party of wardens to Amaranthine she overheard Oghren call out to Anders.  Turning, she saw the dwarf was blocking the mage’s path. So…” he said in a mocking tone, “What’s it like?”  He followed the question up with a sneer.

Ander looked down and sighed, “What? Do you mean what’s it like to have all this power at my fingertips?”  His smile was innocent and inquiring.

The dwarf snickered loudly and derisively. “Noooo… to always have to wear a skirt!”

“Oooohh. You don’t know the story behind the robes!” Anders said animatedly.  He bent forward, continuing in a conspiratorial whisper that Leonie could easily hear, “Well, you know how strict things are in the Circle?”  Oghren nodded and licked his lips.  “Right. Of course you do.”  She saw Anders glance at her out of the corner of his eye as he continued, “Well robes make quick trysts in the corner _easy_.  No laces or buttons…you just…well you’re done before the templars catch on!”

“Oooh!  Oghren gasped, his eyes widening. “ _Really?!”_  

Anders laughed cheerfuly. “ _Of course_.”  He looked towards Leonie. “Robes make for easy access. Just ask anyone!”


End file.
